


Wings of Freedom

by LoneRenegade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Claudia Feels, Drunk Sheriff, First Kiss, Hale Family Feels, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pack Bonding, Physical Abuse, Scent Marking, Stilinski Family Feels, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-10-29
Packaged: 2018-02-11 18:01:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2077743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoneRenegade/pseuds/LoneRenegade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As if Stiles Stilinski's life was complicated enough, try adding large feathered monstrocities shooting out of your back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Shivering at the bottom of the stairs under Derek's pained expression at the top, Stiles wanted nothing more than to disappear. The teen was soaking wet, pale skin shining covered only by a pair of skinny jeans. There were strange limbs coming out of his back where his shoulder blades would be. They were large sparrow wings, light brown and spotted with little bits of white, stretching out about two feet longer than his armspan. They twitched in his fear of Derek seeing him like this.   
"Stiles, I..." Derek started to say before the small winged boy scrambled to his feet and ran out of the house. It was lucky that they were at the Hale house ruins, meaning no one was around.   
In Stiles' opinion, Beacon Hills was ugly in the fall. The leaves went from green to brown too fast. And it was always cloudy. Never any sunshine. Either way, Stiles needed to get away. 

~

When he found himself in his own room, it was getting dark. He knew his dad was working the late shift again so he was safe to relax.   
Stiles took off the large hoodie that he used to hide his appendages, left staring at himself in the mirror. He knew that they needed cleaning, really badly even. They were full of dust and dead leaves and dry twigs. Stiles just shrugged it off and told himself that the brown of his feathers made it blend.   
He decided to jump in the shower. Using a pair of large garbage bags that he kept under the sink, he covered his wings from getting wet. He scrubbed his hair almost too hard, taking out his anxiety on his dark brown hair. The soap ran down his pale skinny body almost too quickly. He almost wished that it would go slower so he could stay in longer. But he knew reality was waiting for him. Derek had seen him. He knew the man was going to come after him and try to learn more about the monstrocities shooting out of his back.   
Stiles sighed and turned off the water, stepping out into the steam. It was depressing for Stiles to think about this situation. The look of pain on Derek's face flashed in his mind again as he unwrapped the wings that caused so much trouble. He silently pulled on some pants and the same sweatshirt as before and walked out into his bedroom.   
The air was cool. Not cold, but enough that it wasn't death to be in the room.   
There was a small noise. Stiles looked up from his trembling hands and saw Derek slipping through his window. He wanted to run away. Get as far away from the older man as possible.   
When Derek's black boots hit the carpet with a soft tap, he looked up, a serious look was in his eyes. He slowly stepped towards the boy in front of him. Stiles was trembling where he stood.   
"Stiles," Derek started to say.   
"No." Stiles cut him off. "Say you didn't see anything." He demanded with fear in the behind his voice. "If you say that for me, then we'll be okay." Stiles was shaking, but the seriousness remained on his face, eyes full of sincerety.   
"I didn't see anything." Derek said, that same look of pain in his eyes.   
"Good." Stiles blurted out. Derek was closer to Stiles now, taking cautious steps. Stiles stepped towards his bed uneasily. The older man reached his hand for Stiles' arm, but Stiles yanked it away.   
"I-I'm sorry." Stiles stammered. "I just don't want to be touched... Please." He backed away and sat on his bed. Derek saw something twitch in the back of Stiles' large sweatshirt. He knew what the younger boy was hiding. Derek chose not to ask about it. He figured Stiles would tell him when he was ready.   
They sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then Derek broke the silence.   
"I should go." He mumbled.   
Stiles hadn't moved in the entire time they'd been sitting. But he raised his hand in attempt to stop him. Derek stepped towards the bed, sitting down next to Stiles. They stared at each other for a minute.   
"They're beautiful." Derek said calmly. He reached his hand up once again and this time Stiles didn't stop him. The older man started to pull the sweatshirt over his head, being mindful of the extra limbs on his back.   
Stiles was quivering in fear. He never let anyone touch him this much. He turned to face Derek, making sure his wings were folded behind him as if they were still buried in the sweatshirt.   
There were bruises on Stiles ribs and torso, standing out across his pale skin. He noticed Derek staring at them.   
"Learning to fly isn't as easy as it sounds." He whispered.   
Derek didn't move.   
"Stiles, please don't lie to me." Derek said, pain in his voice.   
Stiles looked at his hands.   
"You'd be able to tell that, wouldn't you, Sourwolf?" Stiles said, trying to joke his way out of the subject.   
Derek looked into the injured boy's eyes. "Can you tell me something of the truth? Anything that's true about you." He pleaded with Stiles, wanting to not have to listen to a nervous heartbeat.   
Stiles was silent for a moment, but then he looked up from his hands into Derek's eyes.   
"I'm terrified." Stiles whispered. "I'm always looking over my shoulder, making sure nobody finds out." He shivered. "What if they laugh at me? What if they think I'm a freak?"   
Derek took Stiles' hand in his. And somehow, Stiles let him.   
"They're beautiful." Derek said calmly.   
The wings on his back raised a little. Like they heard what Derek had said.   
Out of nowhere, Stiles pressed his lips against Derek's. And to his surprise, Derek kissed him back. It was light and soft. Stiles parted his lips and his tongue met Derek's. It was warm, very warm.   
But when Derek moved his hand to Stiles' neck, the younger boy pulled away and moved to the other side of the bed. He buried his face in his arms and knees, hiding from Derek's gaze.   
When Stiles finally looked up a minute later, Derek had vanished. A part of him was happy that the older man was gone. But he had a weird feeling about Derek. Like Derek was supposed to be there. Like Derek was supposed to sit there next to him and tell him it was going to be okay.   
Stiles decided that he would try and pretend that the kiss never happened. He flopped into bed, pulled up the covers and went to sleep. 

~ 

Stiles woke with a chilled sweat over his body. He glanced at the clock, 3:47 am. He groaned and sat up in bed, trying to remember what had happened in the dream he just had. He knew it had something to do with Derek. He could almost feel the warmth of Derek's presence next to him. The dream was that real.   
Stiles got out of bed and went to the window and peered out. It was dark out, a full moon was shining in the sky above the treeline. The night was clear enough for him to go out.   
In a matter of minutes, Stiles had his skinny jeans and sneakers on with his jacket that he used for nights like this. It was a dark green hoodie with built in padding on the shoulders and elbows, and it was very warm. But there was something else about this piece of clothing. There were two gaping holes in the back where his big wings could fit through.   
Stiles climbed out on the roof, staring into the neighborhood. There were a few blinking street lamps on the corners. The houses were all dark, no light coming through the windows. It was almost peaceful. But Stiles couldn't find peace in this darkness. Then again, he knew where to find better peace.   
The boy spread his big wings and beat them a few times. He was off the roof in seconds, soaring over the neighborhood. He tightened the muscles in his core to keep his body parallel to the ground as he flew.   
When he got closer to the edge of the Beacon Hills Preserve, he saw something move. He went lower, aiding his curiousity. To his surpise, Derek Hale was leaning on the hood of his black Camaro, reading a book. Stiles swooped around a tree and touched down behind it, still watching Derek.   
It was interesting. Derek wasn't facing him, but he could see that the wolf was upset about something. It was just the way the man's shoulders slumped as he leaning on the car.   
"How long is it going to take you to remember that I can hear you?" The man said, making Stiles jump.   
"For as long as it takes you to learn how to smile." Stiles replied, approaching the car and moving next to Derek.   
"You shouldn't be out tonight." Derek said, not looking up from his book.   
"But you are?" Stiles questioned. "Instead of howling with the pack?" He looked at Derek's face and he could see that Derek was already transformed. The alpha was using his red eyes to read his book.   
It was silent for a few moments then Derek spoke.   
"What's it like to fly?" He asked, not looking up.   
Stiles was taken by surprise by the sudden interest. So he just went for it.   
"It's freedom." He said. "Not being confined in one spot. Utterly free."   
Derek breathed out, his breath like a puff of white smoke. He didn't seem to be listening anymore.   
In one motion, Derek had gotten rid of his book and was pressing Stiles up against the side of the car, nuzzling his nose into the younger boy's neck. He was scenting him. Holy God! Derek frickin' Hale was scenting him. This was werewolf for 'Back off, he's mine.' Stiles was having an internal freak out.   
Derek's clawed fingers latched to his hips, keeping him from moving away.   
"D-Derek?" Stiles started to say but a low growl from Derek shut him up. The wolf started to move his hands up his shirt. He could feel Derek's claws brushing up against his skin, bringing a shiver through Stiles' body.   
"M-mine..." Derek whispered into Stiles' neck in a low growl.   
Then in an instant, Derek looked out from where they were standing. He knew that something was coming. Then that something appeared out of the woods. It was a wolf. And a big one at that. Stiles recognized it instantly. Peter Hale. Peter Hale's wolf was prodding towards them.   
Derek roared at the creature, as if to tell him to get the hell out. And Stiles took that as his queue to fly away. A few moments later, he was soaring up away from the two wolves, leaving them howling at him.   
Then Stiles felt a snap in his wing. A second later, he was falling out of the sky. He looked at his left wing and saw that there was a bullet in it. The boy screamed from the sight and the pain of the bullet wound.   
He landed hard in a tree. That was when he blacked out. 

~ 

"You think he's dead?" A muffled voice asked. Stiles could hear voices. That must mean he hadn't bit it.   
"We can hear his heartbeat, you moron." Another voice snapped. Stiles knew that deep grumpy voice anywhere. Derek Hale.  
He opened his eyes slowly. Derek was pacing around the room, Peter was asleep in the recliner and the betas were all across the room. But Scott. Scott was sitting in the corner on the floor.   
"H-Hey..." Stiles said, his voice scratchy when he talked. The wolves, except for Peter, all rushed to his side.   
At first they just stared at him. Scott was the first to say something.   
"How ya feeling, dude?" He asked, a nervousness in his voice.   
"Like I got struck by lightning, bit by a shark and wrecked my Jeep all in the same day." Stiles said. "Now I know I'll win the lottery."   
Isaac sighed with relief. "He can't be too bad. His sarcasm is still solid."   
Stiles tried to sit up, then immediately regretted it. His back hurt like a bitch.   
He froze. The wolves were all looking at him. Like they were waiting for something. Then he craned his neck and saw that the center of his massive wing was bandaged, a red spot showed where the blood was seeping through. He tried to move it but felt a searing pain. He looked back at the others. They all had pain in their eyes.   
"What happened to me?" Stiles asked.   
They all looked at each other, Derek spoke.   
"Someone shot you." He said, almost like it was physically painful for him to speak. "Hit your left...." He didn't want to say it. "...wing." He finally got the word out.   
"Derek called us after he got you here." Lydia piped in. "Why did you hide this from us?" A tear strolled down her face.   
"How do I tell my best friends minus Peter, that I'm a freak?!" Stiles said loudly. "I can barely tell myself that it's true." He buried his face in his hands, hiding his tears.   
Derek silently moved to Stiles' side and took one of the boy's hands. He started to wince, the veins on his entire arm were black while he took the pain. He let out a pain-filled breath as the black veins spread to his face, leaving the rest of his skin a sickly pale color.   
Stiles peered through his hand to see Derek panting for breath. He yanked his hand away.   
"What the hell are you doing?!" He snapped. Derek put his hand out for to keep from falling.   
"I can't do this. Derek stop." Stiles scrambled off the couch and to the roof of the Loft, ignoring the pleas from the pack, minus Peter. He took a deep breath and leapt out, beating his big wings hard despite the pain.   
While flying, Stiles noticed that it was morning. The full moon had set and it was cloudier than it had been when he left. Then he felt a drip on his ear. The rain started pouring around him, thunder pounding in his ears and wind whipping his wet feathers.   
"Shit!" Stiles swore as the wind took control of his flight, taking him towards the Beacon Hills preserve. He beat his wings again and through all his efforts to stay in the air, he crash landed in a clearing at the center of the preserve. He looked up and saw the ruins of the Hale House. He thought of Derek. How bad he must have felt. How he felt when he got the call in school that day 11 years ago. How he knew that the fire was his fault.   
But Stiles tried to shake the thoughts away as much as he could as he stumbled up to the big porch in front of the house. His clothes were soaked through and his skin was like ice to the touch. He sat down on the porch, finally out of the rain. He shivered as he brought his soaking, damaged wing in front of him so he could look at it without the bandage.   
There was a mess of red stained feathers around the wound. And to Stiles' relief, it was already healing itself. The bleeding seemed like it had stopped many hours before and had already scabbed over.   
He decided to go inside. The walls were surprisingly sturdy for being remnants of a fire. He crept up the stairs and around the corner. On one of the remaining doors, something caught his eye. There was an engraved letter on the wooden door. It was a ashy remain of the letter 'D' carved in the door.   
Stiles reached for the doorknob, hand shaking. Then a strong hand clamped over his wrist, stopping him.   
It was Derek. Derek was stopping him from entering the room. Stiles looked up at him, heart racing.   
"No." The werewolf said.   
Stiles looked back and forth from the door to the wolf.   
"How did you find me?" He asked, trying to keep calm.   
"Why're you in my house?" The wolf retorted.   
"I asked first."   
Derek let go of Stiles' wrist.   
"You really think you could get away from me with an injured...." He still couldn't say the word.   
"Feathered monstrocity that sticks out of my upper back that constantly causes me trouble?" Stiles suggested even though it was exactly what he wanted to say.   
"I think they're beautiful." Derek said.   
The werewolf reached up to try and touch one, but out of reflex Stiles flinched away.   
"N-Not yet." Stiles said quickly.   
Derek just nodded and guided Stiles out of the house and into the car outside. 

~ 

When they pulled up to Stiles' house, Stiles was relieved that his father's squad car was not there. He almost didn't want to get out of the car. He didn't want Derek to leave. The wolf seemed to understand when Stiles doesn't get out of the car. He went around the car and opened the passenger door and guided Stiles into the house.   
"Are you sure you don't want to go through the window, Sourwolf?" Stiles joked as they stepped in the door.   
Derek just grumbled something Stiles didn't feel like trying to deciefer.   
Mindlessly, Stiles trecked up the stairs and took off his green hoodie. He could feel Derek staring at him from the doorway.   
"When was the last time you cleaned them?" Derek asked.   
"The rain this morning." Stiles replied without turning around. He was trying to undo his belt, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. He was still pretty cold. Very cold in fact. His wet skinny jeans constricted his legs in a way that wasn't very comfortable. He was still shivering. Then he felt a pair of warm arms wrap around him.   
"D-Derek..." Stiles protested.   
"You should take a shower." The wolf said emotionless.   
The freezing boy opened his mouth to object but stopped himself and nodded his head. He went into his bathroom and shut the door without a word. 

~

The next day at school, Stiles hopped out of his Jeep and felt several pairs of eyes on him. He wanted to disappear all over again. He rushed into the building, not looking at anyone.   
It wasn't until he was sitting in Economics class that he felt sort of relaxed. Coach was going on about 'Reasons that Greenburg should be Homeschooled'. And Stiles took this as an opportunity to write a list of things to do within this year. He took out his notebook and started to write. 

1) "Get to Second Base with Lydia Martin." Wait a minute. That didn't sound right to Stiles. The first person to come to mind was Derek Hale. Did the grumpy werewolf who constantly caused him physical pain love him? Or worse... Did he love that werewolf?   
Stiles scratched out the first thing on his list and wrote some other things instead of thinking about Derek.   
1) "Get a tattoo."   
2) "Watch Star Wars with Scott since he's never seen it."   
3) "Visit the Hale Family Memorial."  
Stiles stopped at that one. He honestly didn't like cemetaries that much. They made him think of his mother. Reminded him how he'd go her grave on her birthday and wedding anniversary and death day, talking to her while staring at the night sky. But he felt like Derek's family needed a visitor. Even if Derek didn't want him to, he felt like he had to.   
Stiles put his forehead in his hands, staring down at the page. He was trying to tune Coach's ranting out so he could think.   
Then a sudden feeling came over him. It was like Derek was standing over his shoulder. He ignored the feeling. He picked up his pen and wrote...  
4) Tell Derek Hale that I like him.   
The Imaginary Derek behind Stiles was nodding his head. Almost like he was in agreement. Then again, that could just be his imagination. Then the bell rang and Stiles rushed out.   
~

The rest of the day seemed endless to him. The whole day, the only thing on his mind was 'Number 4'. Then finally when he reached his Jeep, Scott was sitting in the driver's seat.   
"Get in." The werewolf said.  
Stiles got in. Scott drove the car to the Animal Clinic. Somehow Stiles saw this coming. Scott and the pack probably called Deaton the moment they knew about Stiles.   
When they pulled up, Stiles unbuckled his seatbelt but didn't move from the Jeep.   
"It's gonna be fine." Scott said and Stiles nodded before noticing something.   
"Then why is Derek here?" He questioned. "Not a lot of guys in this town drive a black Camaro. Let alone afford it."   
With a glance at Scott, Stiles dropped the subject and went inside.   
Deaton had the table all cleared off when Stiles went in. There were four pairs of eyes on him. Lydia, Deaton, Isaac and Derek were all looking at him.   
"Awww You cleared off the table just for me?!" Stiles exclaimed all mushy.   
None of them laughed. Just more staring. "Alright Alright." He groaned, shedding his sweatshirt with a small grunt. He stopped at his tshirt, holding the bottom hem in his fingers. Then Derek put his hand on Stiles' quivering wrist.   
"It's time, Stiles." Deaton said, putting his rubber gloves on followed by his glasses.   
The winged boy nodded and took off his shirt and unfolded his big wings. It almost felt good to get them out of his sweatshirt for a while. But then he remembered that a Veternarian/Pack Emissary was going to be 'examining' him.   
Stiles sat up on the table, shaking at the thought that Deaton was going to be touching the place no one has ever touched. He squeezed his eyes shut very tightly.   
Deaton's gloved hand was inches away from Stiles' flesh when he heard movement. When he opened his eyes, a wolfed out Derek had his clawed hand over Deaton's wrist, glowing eyes in the man's face.   
"You. Did. This." The Alpha said through clenched teeth. "You shot him. You shot Stiles with a gun."  
Deaton shook his head.   
"Not me." The vet said. "My sister did."   
"Moralle." Derek growled in anger.   
"She said it was to maintain the balence." Deaton said. "That's why she shot Stiles. She told me if she didn't do it, then I would. And she was right."   
Stiles jumped off the table and curled up in the corner, his sparrow wings wrapping around his shirtless body.   
"Stiles!" Derek said rushing to him.   
Stiles looked up at the the normal face of Derek Hale.   
The winged boy rushed out of the clinic and got halfway to his Jeep before getting stopped by Derek. He beat his big wings, gaining some strength. Just before he took off, Stiles only said one thing.   
"Number 4." After one last glance at the wolf, he took off into the afternoon air.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A grave visit goes wrong and Stiles is gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How did I get so many reads in a day?! Don't answer that. I like it :) I really didn't expect this. But I have to say thank you guys so much! I didn't think this fic would be very popular with AO3.

Derek wandered back into the clinic, finding an awkward silence between the people in the room.   
"Did he say anything else?" Lydia asked. She just wanted to hear it from Derek instead of through a mountain ash plated wall.   
"He just said 'Number 4'." Derek said.   
Then Isaac moved over to the spot where Stiles' sweatshirt was laying on the floor. He fished into the pocket of the sweatshirt and found a folded piece of paper.   
"I think you guys should see this." Isaac said slowly.   
Everyone read what was in Isaac's hands. Even Derek.   
After reading the list, the alpha ran out and followed Stiles' scent. He ended up at the cemetary.   
And there Stiles was. Standing at the edge of the cemetary where the Hale Family Memorial was, wearing his green hoodie and stretching his big wings behind his back.   
Derek walked over to him, but didn't say anything.   
"Do you ever miss them?" Stiles asked, his eyes not leaving the gravestone.   
"A little bit sometimes." Derek said. "Then other times more."   
Stiles nodded his head slowly. He didn't stop staring at the large headstone.   
"You had a big family. I don't think you could fit this many names on a grave as small as my mother's." The younger boy said.   
"Where is hers?" Derek asked. "Under that tree over there." Stiles said, pointing to a small tree about as tall as Derek and very thin with big yellow leaves. "Her favorite type of tree was the Ginko Tree. She always liked the shape of the leaves. They reminded her of butterfly wings."   
Derek simply nodded. He didn't really know what to say. This was the kid who was terrified of things in his own mind but was fearless to run with wolves.   
A few drops of rain followed by a sturdy rain filled the air around them. It didn't seem to bother Stiles or Derek. They just stood in front of the large grave. It read the names of all the people lost in the fire. For some reason, Cora Hale was near the bottom of the list. Stiles didn't ask, which Derek appreciated.   
They just stood there for what seemed like forever, not saying anything. Then Stiles turned around to face Derek.   
"Will you come to meet her please?" He asked. "I think she's been asking about you. At least, that's what Lydia says. The whole Banshee thing is still confusing to the both of us. Then again she could just be trying to get us together. Can't say I disagree." Derek nodded, taking Stiles hand and walking towards the small tree.   
Stiles stepped down so his chest was level with the top of the gravestone.   
"Hey Mom." He said. "We came to say hi. I'm sorry Dad hasn't come for a while. He and I can't seem agree these days." Stiles paused to wipe a raindrop, (or a tear) from his eye. "But I brought someone else though." He yanked Derek down to his level.   
'Looks like he's feeling better.' Derek thought to himself as he knelt next to Stiles.   
"Mom, this is Derek Hale." Stiles said. "He may look stiff and humorless, but he has a soft spot for me."   
Derek was surprised that Stiles could talk so well to his dead mother. But then again, Stiles could win gold in the Talking Olympics. The werewolf just listened to Stiles tenatively.   
"I'm sorry that I have been coming more often to bug you." The boy continued. "I don't like that Dad can't see what you gave me. He says it's just a dream. Or a fantasy. Even though they cause trouble all the time, I'm glad you gave me them. They're so strong. Heh, it's the only part of my body that has muscle. I have to tell you that Derek here has saved me many times. And I've saved his ass on countless occasions." Stiles stopped to take a choking breath. Derek could tell that he was struggling not to cry. So the werewolf started to speak.   
"Claudia Stilinski, I happen to know that your son has a strong heart and is able overcome any obsticle in his way. And I don't believe he's crying because he's sad. I think he's crying for what came with losing you. All his pain and suffering with the loss of his beautiful mother at only the age if 8." Derek paused to wrap crying Stiles up in his arms. "But I can promise you this, no harm will come to him. He'll always have me to love him."   
Stiles gaped at him. Then the winged boy started to weep into Derek's chest. Derek kept talking.   
"Stiles is the most amazing creature I've ever seen. But I must say, his... wings... could use a good cleaning. I don't know if you know this, but there are werewolves running around this crazy town. And I'm the alpha of the pack. I trust my betas enough to watch my back. But I trust Stiles more to watch my heart."   
Stiles got quiet other than tiny whimpers and choked breaths. Then in one motion, he tore away from Derek and flew out of sight, tears falling along with the rain. 

~ 

At the Hale House, Derek sat on the stairs, his face in his hands. He couldn't believe Stiles. Not what the boy did, but what Derek made him do. Derek had made Stiles cry.   
It didn't have anything to do with his mother or the rain. Stiles had cried because of him. And Derek didn't like that.   
Then Derek heard Isaac coming up the steps into the house. For once, Derek was happy that his beta didn't talk much.   
"Anything?" Derek asked, not looking up at Isaac. Stiles had gone away and Derek sent his betas out looking for him.   
"Not yet." Isaac said. "Scott and Lydia are still out. And Stiles' jeep hasn't moved from the clinic. The rain isn't helping either. It's making Stiles' scent harder to find."   
A low growl stayed in the back of Derek's throat.   
Suddenly, Scott busted through the door with an out of breath Lydia behind him.   
"We only found one thing." Scott said, turning to Lydia. She held up a small object. In her polished finger nails, she held a light brown feather with a white tip.   
Derek rose to his feet and rushed down to examine the feather.   
"It's Stiles'." The alpha said. "Where did you find this? There could be more."   
Scott and Lydia looked at each other.   
"What?" Derek growled, his eyes shining red.   
"The feather hit my windshield. That means Stiles is in the sky somewhere." Lydia said quietly.   
Derek's low growl got louder. He couldn't leave Stiles alone out there. He just couldn't. 

~


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finds time to think. That time might involve a big tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love guys so much :) I couldn't believe how many people are reading this fic. The next chapter was written when I was thinking about Stiles' life as the Sheriff's kid. Enjoy :)

Stiles was flying over the Sheriff's station and saw his dad's coworker, Tara sitting at the front desk. He thought about her. What would she think of these things? Would Tara try to shoot him with her gun? Would she tell his father? Would she try and get him a doctor?   
Stiles tried to push away the thoughts of doctors shoving needles into him.   
Instead, he thought of when he and Tara used to sit at the front desk together. Stiles was 12 and Tara had just returned from her patrol. He was trying to work out his math problem and Tara was helping him. She was always so smart and always knew what to say. Even though Stiles was great at 6th grade math, Tara was still a lot of help with keeping him focused.   
Then another thought came to Stiles' mind as he landed in a tree near the station. Would Tara keep him focused now? Even when he had so much crap in his life? When there was a pack of werewolves running around?   
Stiles watched Tara sit at the front desk. She was currently using her phone since nobody really visited the Sheriff's Station on a rainy night like it had been.   
"Tara, you should pay attention more." Stiles whispered into the rain.   
"Something could happen. Please Tara." A couple more tears ran down Stiles' cheeks.   
The winged boy couldn't watch Tara anymore so he took off again. The rain had gotten harder since he'd left the tree. He wished that his feathers were dryer so he could fly easier. But he normally flew until his wings couldn't carry him anymore. It was about that point.   
Stiles looked down for a place to land. He saw his Jeep parked outside the animal clinic. He decided it was time to land and just go home. His feet landed with a soft tap in the puddled parking lot.   
He heard a noise and froze next to his Jeep.   
"Stiles, why did you run away?" A female voice asked. "Or should I say, fly away."   
Stiles turned around to see Ms. Moralle standing behind him.   
"I had to fly away from an insane emissary that tried to shoot me down." Stiles said. "And I think said emissary should be telling me why she shot me."   
"Hmmph..." Moralle stepped back, ready to leave. "All in good time Stiles. But I would be cautious. Keep your feet on the ground for now. I don't like surprises."   
Stiles looked around to see that Moralle had disappeared. He walked back to his Jeep as the rain poured down on him. 

~

Stiles stepped into his house and slid his back down the door. He was stunned. He probably shouldn't have been driving, given the way his brain was running miles around him. He was glad that his father was still at the station so that the Sheriff didn't have to see his only son like this. His dad didn't deserve it.   
Stiles started to cry. He couldn't take it anymore. He was wet and cold and miserable. Believe it or not. He wanted Derek. Derek Hale was the one he needed beside him.   
Instead of waiting all night for Derek to come for him, he decided to get showered and change clothes.   
Stiles tried to go through his routine as if he wasn't feeling like crap. He pulled off his jacket. Two handfulls of feathers came off with it. He sighed and cleaned them up and hung his jacket up to air dry.   
A moment later, Stiles found himself staring into the full length mirror next to his dresser. He felt anger towards the wings he had. He almost had the nerve to try and cut them off. But then he thought of war heroes having to cut off limbs on the battlefield and shuddered. He didn't need anymore pain.   
As Stiles stared at himself, he heard a small noise at his window. He turned around and saw Derek Hale climbing through.   
"Are you selling me Girl Scout cookies? Because I don't let my dad near those things." Stiles said flatly.   
"You must be feeling better." Derek responded.   
"Yeah. Flying usually makes me feel better. But today was different." Stiles sat down on his bed, his wings still damp as the stretched out behind him. "Today I was flying away from yet another Failed Derek Hale conversation. And to tell you the truth, I want to stop having those. I just hate 'em." Stiles wanted to stop himself but he wasn't done yet.   
"I want to have real... things with you. Not just poking through supernatural crap or searching for lost members of the pack. I want to have something real between us. I want... I want Number 4."   
Derek didn't say anything for a few minutes. They just stared anywhere except at each other.   
Then Derek broke the silence.   
"I think your first tattoo should have meaning. And I don't think Scott has the time to watch Star Wars these days. I also think you should consider taking someone with you when you visit my family's memorial. No one should be visiting a grave alone. Not even me." The werewolf paused for only a moment then he spoke again.   
"And I think there's something I'm missing. Am I wrong?"   
Stiles stood up and stepped over to where Derek was standing.   
"Derek Hale, I'm fascinated by you and would like a chance to prove myself." Stiles confidence faded. "I know I can never be good enough for you and I know you've had a crappy life. But you didn't deserve any of it. And I-" Derek cut him off with a kiss. Stiles felt the butterflies float through his stomach as he melted into the kiss. Then Derek pulled away.   
"You don't have to prove anything to me." He said softly. "It's like I said to your mom, I'll always be around."   
Stiles glanced back at his wings. His feathers were still damp and he had lost clumps of them in the storm.   
He decided that he was ready. He needed to do this.   
"Derek?" Stiles began. "Could you do something for me?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally lets Derek in. History and Coffee are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter. Wings of Freedom has done so well that I can hardly believe this is real. Thank you guys so much for all the reads and comments and kudos. So what I ask of you is to give me some feedback. What you liked, what I should improve on, maybe I'll do some fic requests. This is my first public fic. I want to try new things.

In Stiles' bathroom, Derek held a wash rag in one hand and a bottle of shampoo in the other.   
"Are you sure you're ready?" Derek asked.   
Stiles nodded. The younger boy had his back to Derek. He was shirtless with his wings stretched out.   
"Okay. Here we go." Derek said, moving closer to a trembling Stiles.   
The second Derek's hand touched his wet feathers, Stiles jumped.   
"Sorry." Stiles said. "I'm just not used to being touched there."   
Derek hummed a response and began to wash the base of his wings near where his shoulder blade would be. The bones were stiff but they had muscle. The muscle was tense under Derek's hands as he gently washed the limb.   
He washed as carefully as he could to get the dirt and dried blood out of the feathers. Stiles should really take better care of these.   
He couldn't help but notice that Stiles' face was still. The boy had his eyes closed and only on occasion did his tongue dart out to wet his plump pink lips.   
Derek kept washing with little flicks of his fingers through the soft feathers, and Stiles didn't say a word for the rest of the hour he spent washing both wings. 

 

At exactly 11:03 pm, Derek and Stiles were standing in front of Stiles' full length mirror. Stiles had his wings wrapped around himself like a coat of feathers.   
"Thank you, Sourwolf." He said and Derek just nodded. "They're perfect now. My mom just has to be smiling down on us for finally getting them cleaned." Derek noticed that Stiles smile faded at the mention of his mother.   
"They're beautiful." Derek said. "Tell me honestly, when was the last time you washed them?"   
Stiles looked away but Derek could see his blush.   
"Never." Stiles said. "I never felt the need to. Tell me this, when was the last time you washed your claws? They could be crusted in dried blood right now."   
Derek had to smile at that.   
"You got me." The werewolf admitted.   
Stiles lowered his wings and pulled Derek into a warm embrace. And Derek wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. The alpha felt truly happy with this boy. He didn't know that it would last, but he decided to make the most of this. Whatever 'this' was. 

~ 

Derek woke up early the next morning. It was still dark outside the window. He realized that he'd fallen asleep in Stiles' bed the night before. The alpha shuddered at the thought of what the Sheriff would do if he found him in bed with his only son.   
Derek looked down at the sleeping boy next to him. He studied the sprinkle of moles scattered about his face and neck and the pink, plumpness of his soft lips. Derek's eyes moved to Stiles' dark hair, which had grown longer. It was currently sticking out every which way, showing signs that Stiles had slept well.   
Derek smiled at Stiles' beauty. Then he rose out of bed, being wary of the boy sleeping and went downstairs.   
The werewolf knew that the Sheriff wasn't in the house, but he was still quiet, all out of habit. He was always an early riser around the Loft with the other betas being teenagers in the summer. Erica was always coming back late and slept in a lot. Boyd was never really tired or overworked. He was just good at sleeping. Isaac doesn't sleep well. The beta usually has bad nightmares and stays in his room shivering in fear until someone comes over to lay with him. Jackson sleeps at his own house most nights. But on weekends, he goes out drinking and sobers up at the Loft. Derek didn't have a problem with that.  
So Derek wandered into the kitchen and helped himself to make some coffee. He liked his black, like his uncle. So he had no trouble working the Stilinski's coffee pot. Something about the layout of the Stilinski's kitchen intrigued Derek.   
It was perfectly messy. They had things everywhere. But the things were in a certain order that Derek couldn't wrap his head around.   
Their dinner table was round with, to Derek's surprise, 3 seats around it. It was only Stiles and the Sheriff. What did they need 1 extra chair for?   
The coffee being ready broke Derek from his thoughts. He went into the cabinet and pulled out a Batman mug.   
"Oh Stiles..." Derek said, shaking his head. He looked on the bottom of the mug and chuckled at what he saw. There was a small tag with girly scribbles on it.   
'Happy Birthday Batman! I'll be your Catwoman :) Love, Erica'   
Derek smiled as he filled the mug with coffee.   
"Erica bought that for me last year." A voice said from the doorway. Derek turned around to see a sleepy-eyed Stiles with a small smile standing next to the fridge.   
"She says it should serve as a reminder of my ways of a hero, or something. But it just makes me think of her, believe it or not." Stiles said, going into the fridge, pulling out the jug of milk and taking a big drink of it. Derek took a big drink of his coffee as well. An unexpected chuckle came from Stiles after he put the milk back in the fridge.   
"I don't need wolf powers to know that you like your coffee as strong and black as Aretha Franklin." He said. "I could smell it from upstairs."   
That earned a smile from Derek and Stiles returned the gesture.   
They sat at the table talking, making sure to stay away from downward topics. Derek couldn't help but notice that Stiles kept checking his phone. It started to annoy him. 

So Derek sent a few texts of his own.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles gets a surprise visit. Belgian waffles are amazing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like the writer for Frozen. They never explained why Elsa had powers or why the Trolls came to life. I never explained why Stiles had wings and I don't think I ever will.   
> Anyway, sorry for the late chapter. School starts in 5 days so I've been getting ready. But thanks again for your support and your reads.

Stiles was genuinely happy when he and Derek sat at the kitchen table that morning. But he honestly wanted more than just Derek sitting with him. He'd checked his phone at least a dozen times, waiting for Scott to text him. He noticed Derek using his phone for less than a minute to send a quick text. Stiles chose not to ask.   
But when he got up to put the milk away, Stiles was met with a bunch of rowdy teenagers pulling him into a big hug.   
"Derek!" Stiles exclaimed excitedly. He peered through the pack to meet Derek's smirking face. The alpha had texted the entire pack to come. Isaac, Erica, Boyd, Lydia, Scott, Allison and even Jackson came. Stiles was so happy. He couldn't control his laughter as the pack wrapped him up in a big sandwich hug.   
Once they all settled, Stiles made breakfast. Scott could vouch for his mad skills in making Belgian Waffles. The pack was sprawled out on the floor in the Stilinski's living room. Only Erica was in the kitchen with Stiles while he made breakfast. She stood at his side like a child waiting to lick the brownie spoon. She watched his every move like there was nothing in the world more interesting.   
"Do you mind?" Stiles asked when she was practically breathing down his neck. She backed away almost instantly. But she was still looking at him.   
"You know," Stiles began, not looking up from breakfast. "Mr. Brooding-Alpha used your mug today. I told him what you said about it. I got a smile, and that's huge progress for Derek."   
Erica stared awkwardly at the floor.   
"You're truly Batman now, Stiles." She said, her feet shuffling shyly. "And you've got the wings to prove it."   
Stiles froze. He never thought he'd hear anything like that. He turned around, his eyes welling up with tears. With her heals, Erica was the same height as him. So Stiles wrapped his arms around Erica, pulling her close. A few seconds later, Erica returned the embrace, wrapping her arms around him.   
"What's it like to fly?" Erica asked quietly.   
"Freedom." Stiles replied. "What's it like... to be apart of something? A pack?" Erica pulled back to look Stiles in the eyes.   
"Batman, you're every bit of pack as me or Isaac or Boyd. What makes you think you're not pack?"   
Stiles shrugged. "I dunno. I guess because I'm human. I'm weaker than all of you guys." He moved back over to where the food was about done.   
"Stiles Stilinski!" Erica snapped."You are more pack then all of us. I can't stand here and listen to you think this way about yourself."   
Stiles could hear the pain in her voice.   
"Do you wanna know why we were all so worried about you when you got shot? We worried because Derek was worried sick about you. When the Alpha feels emotional, so does the pack. And we all know Derek has little to no emotion on the outside. But he actually showed his feelings for you. That's something he can't hide from his pack. We feel what he feels!" Erica was panting now. Her eyes glowed gold. "Pack mentality, Stiles."   
Stiles hadn't looked at her during her speech. He was stunned that she would be so open with him. He glanced at his stack of Belgian waffles waiting to be eaten. His face lit up.   
He turned, winked at Erica and strode into the living room.   
"Hey! This breakfast isn't going to eat itself!" Stiles said happily. Erica had made him feel better. And he hoped that Erica felt the same way. The pack stampieded into the kitchen, each taking a waffle from the plate.   
"My waffles are good enough that you don't need to drown them in syrup for them to be delicious." Stiles told them and they agreed. The only one not eating was Derek, who stood in the corner of the kitchen watching them. Stiles moved over to him. 

"Thank you, Sourwolf." He said softly. "You couldn't have made a better morning."   
Derek simply nodded as they watched the pack eat and carry on.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Saturday cooked to perfection.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first, I didn't think I needed anymore chapters. But I still need to tie up some loose ends in this fic. Let me know what you guys would think.

Wings AU part 6

Stiles felt so much better after that Saturday morning with the pack. They decided to have a movie day with all the pack. Pillows, blankets and werewolves were scattered about as they went through various movies that ruptured many arguments. Lydia wanted to watch The Notebook and insisted on nothing else. Allison said she'd never seen Now You See Me, and the pack eyed her with disgust.   
"It was THE heist movie of 2013." Isaac told her. "You need to be informed of this movie history."   
The pack all nodded to ensure the decision. A reluctant Lydia finally agreed to watch the film.  
So they all sprawled out on the floor among the blankets and pillows to watch Now You See Me. Derek and Stiles were the only ones on the couch. Without hesitation, Stiles curled up into Derek's side. And in response, Derek put a protective arm around the younger boy.   
Stiles felt truly felt happy with Derek. When he was with the alpha, he didn't feel the constant fear that seemed to loom over him. His anxiety seemed to go away.   
Stiles unfolded his big wings and draped one over the both of them. Derek started to stroke the soft feathers in his fingers. Stiles giggled softly.   
"That tickles..." He said smiling.   
Derek smiled.   
"So you're like their dad, right?" Stiles asked, poking at the wolf's chest.   
"I'm the alpha. They're my responsibility." Derek replied.   
"But you still care about them. Like any parent would." Stiles pointed out. "Wow Sourwolf. You're 24 and already the father of 4 teenagers. How does that feel?"   
Derek gave him a look.   
"Who was it that cooked them Belgian Waffles for breakfast on a Saturday morning?" Stiles slapped his chest playfully. But he knew that Derek was right.   
"Does that make me their mom?" He asked, seeming more honest. "I think it's worse for me. I'm 17 and the mother of 4 teenagers."   
Derek smiled.   
"Be happy about it. You get to have another family."   
Stiles looked back to the movie screen. Madrae was telling Agent Rhodes about the bridge in Paris that people lock secrets in. He wondered if he could lock his own secret up and keep a spare key. Just in case. 

~ 

 

When the day was over, the pack started to fall asleep, Stiles included. The younger boy yawned like a kitten and struggled to keep his eyes open.   
They'd watched the movie over and over again to make sure that Allison caught every detail.   
Then Stiles heard the door to his dad's squad car slam. He looked up and saw that Derek knew too. Stiles shrugged. If his dad wasn't going to accept this, then it's his problem.   
The sheriff walked into the house, jingling his keys in his hand.   
"Stiles?" The man called. He stepped through the living room doorway from the kitchen to see the teenagers sprawled out on the carpet. His eyes narrowed at Derek, who had a sleepy Stiles in his arms. Derek opened his mouth to explain but the sheriff raised his hands to stop him.   
"The only thing that upsets me is that Stiles made his Belgian Waffles without me. I'm going to bed. This mess better be cleaned up when I get up tomorrow." The man said, them he turned around and disappeared upstairs.   
Stiles looked up at Derek.   
"Well that was easy." Stiles said, a dim-witted sound to his voice. Then he yawned again. "G'Night Sourwolf..."   
Derek hummed a soft sound for Stiles then they both drifted off to sleep. 

~ 

Stiles woke up to a low rumble above his head. He cracked his eyes open to see a sleeping Derek. The rumble was from a soft snore that sat in the back of the alpha's throat. It made Stiles smile when he noticed the little bit of drool dripping from his lip.   
"That's weird." Stiles jumped at the sudden voice from the floor. He turned and saw Isaac looking at them.   
"What is?" Stiles asked.   
"I've just never seen Derek sleep that soundly. He usually tries for an hour then gets up to wander around Beacon Hills through the night." The beta explained.   
Stiles stayed quiet. He didn't think of Derek having 'real' troubles. He wished that this would never end. But then he heard the other betas plus Allison and Lydia waking up.   
"Batman?" Erica called from the comfort of Boyd's chest. "Will you make breakfast again?"   
"Sorry Catwoman." Stiles said. "Only once a week. My policy on free meals."   
Erica and the other betas whined childishly. It brought a smile to Stiles' face.   
"You're no pack mom." A voice said from above him. He looked up to see Derek awake and looking down at him. "You can't even make your own pack breakfast? I'm disappointed."   
"Why don't you make it, Sourwolf?" Stiles shot back.   
"I'm like Laura. I can't even make ice." Derek said, yawning.   
Stiles looked back to the teenagers all staring at him from the floor with pleading eyes. He himself rolled his eyes and got up to the kitchen, preparing yet another meal for the pack.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Racing is a man's sport. (Except when you're not human)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. But thank you for all kudos and comments. Leave me some more. Thanks for your support!

Derek and Stiles found themselves in the Hale House. It was raining again and Derek felt like it was time. Since Stiles opened up to him more than anyone else, Derek felt he needed to return the favor. Hell, Derek was the first person to lay a hand on the wings that he'd kept a secret for so long.   
They were standing outside the door with the 'D' carved in it. It opened with a creak and Stiles stepped in and looked around.   
There were claw marks all over the walls along with ash and big gaping holes. There was the remnants of a king sized bed sitting against the wall. The mattress was torn to shreds like an animal had gotten to it. Then again, the entire room looked like an animal got to it. A dresser sat in the corner of the room caught their eyes. It had 'monster' scratched across it in big claw marks.   
Stiles didn't say anything. He just stepped over to the dresser silently. He pulled a sharpie from his pocket and started to write.   
Derek moved to stand at the boy's side, not reading until Stiles was done. He really wanted to know what Stiles was writing but he didn't let it show on his face. Once the boy turned, Derek looked saw something amazing.   
The horrible word that Derek had written now read 'My perfect monster'. Stiles stared into Derek's eyes as he stood up.   
Stiles pressed his lips against Derek's, kissing him softly. Derek held Stiles close, hands wrapping around him. Stiles made him so happy.   
"Does this mean you want Number 4?" Stiles asked slyly.   
Derek rolled his eyes and pulled out a slip of paper for Stiles to read. 

1\. Get another tattoo  
2\. Rebuild the Hale House  
3\. Visit Stiles' mother  
4\. Tell Sheriff Stilinski that I'm in love with his son. 

Stiles stared at the last one in disbelief. But after his picked his jaw up off the floor he looked at Derek.   
"My dad might shoot you." He said laughing.   
"So be it. I want my Number 4 to happen tonight. What time does he get back?" Derek was so ready to let this out.   
"Any minute." Stiles checked his phone. "He should be pulling in the driveway."   
Derek nodded and started to move back but Stiles caught his arm. He could tell Stiles was eager for something. He could almost smell it on the younger boy.   
"I wonder if you can run faster than I can fly?" Stiles said nonchalantly.   
"Is that a challenge?"   
Stiles held up 3 fingers. "First one to my front door wins. Three, two, one Go!"  
Stiles beat his big wings and took off into the trees, rain dripping from the ends of his feathers. He soared over Beacon Hills with a big grin on his face, not that anyone could see his face.   
Stiles looked down at the woods below him and saw Derek running. He always liked the way the pack ran. Their feet would always fly up behind them as their strides got longer. Stiles picked up the pace of his flight and made sure Derek was long behind him.   
The house was in sight of Stiles. He could see the light of TVs flickering in the neighbors' house as he got closer.   
His feet hit the porch with a small thump as he landed. Then he turned to watch for Derek.   
He smiled when the alpha leapt up the driveway.   
"Geez Sourwolf, took you long enough!" Stiles said, grinning with satisfaction.   
Derek stayed quiet, looking at Stiles' wings which were resting behind him.   
"Will you..." The alpha started to say while stepping closer to Stiles. He pressed his nose into the crook of Stiles' neck, inhaling his scent.   
Stiles let out a whine when Derek started to nip at his pale, wet skin. It made him want to do something to Derek but he was too in shock to do anything.   
"Your scent..." Derek whispered into Stiles' neck, pushing him against the front door. "It's intoxicating... And when you borrowed my jacket... Oh you smelled perfect... Like mine."   
Stiles let his eyes flutter shut.   
"Y-yours..." He repeated softly. "I'm okay with that. You're perfect and beautiful and caring behind your fearful facade and you-"  
"Stiles." Derek cut him off. "Shut up. Please?"   
Stiles nodded frantically.   
Derek continued to suckle the soft skin, and the boys didn't even notice the Sheriff's squad car pull in the driveway.   
"Hale! What the hell?!" The Sheriff shouted at them. He had pulled his gun out and aimed it at Derek.   
"Dad! He's just..." Stiles protested, but the Sheriff hissed a swear.   
"Sheriff Stilinski, I'm in love with your son and you can't change that. And I'm sure that he's in love with me too. If you shoot me, it won't stop us one bit."   
The Sheriff calmed himself down abd lowered his gun and turned to Stiles.   
"Kiddo... You love him?" He asked.   
Stiles nodded. "I do Dad. He's the best thing that's happen in a long time. I can't be without him Dad."   
The Sheriff let out a deep sigh and stepped closer to Stiles and pulled him into a big hug. Stiles was so shocked at his dad's actions that he almost forgot to hug back.   
Once the Sheriff let go, he turned to Derek.   
"You hurt him and I shoot you, capice?"   
Derek nodded.   
"Then you're staying for dinner." Stiles groaned at that. He knew this would end in a spiriling world of awkward Derek silences.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The anniversary is here. Stiles loses his wings on this day. They come back the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love you guys so much :) I wish I could thank every single one of you. Sterek forever. Don't forget it.

Dinner with the Stilinskis wasn't hard as Derek thought it would be. It was more of the Sheriff trying to get to know Derek and Stiles having his hands over his face in shame the whole time. It made the alpha feel all warm inside. It was like he had a place to belong now. A family. But it was different than having a pack. It was more than that. Like someone genuinely cared that he was in the room.  
After dinner, Derek had left through the front door and immediately went up through Stiles' window.  
It was happening again. Stiles was standing shirtless in front of the full-length mirror again, studying his wings and prodding through the soft feathers with beautiful fingers.  
"Who knew?" He said, not looking up. "These things are faster than a werewolf. How's your ego, Sourwolf?"  
Derek rolled his eyes.  
"You just got lucky." The alpha said, stepping closer to Stiles.  
The younger boy scoffed at that.  
"Sounds like a sore loser."  
"Don't get a big head, Stiles. It was a silly race." Derek smiled softly and so did Stiles. 

~ 

A couple days later, Derek leaned against a cement pillar in the loft with his arms crossed. His betas were spread out as they all talked. Isaac was sitting on the desk, staring out the big window into the rainy afternoon. Erica had her head in Boyd's lap as she was dozing off on the couch. Boyd's expression was simple. He looked like he was watching over her. Jackson had Lydia in his arms as she was slowly drifting off to sleep as well. Scott and Allison were sitting on the spiral staircase, talking quietly.  
Derek almost felt at a loss without the one person they needed here. He wished that Stiles would come flying and landing on the roof of the loft.  
But Derek and the pack knew that this was an significant day for Stiles and his father. 

This was the day that Claudia Stilinski died. 

Derek decided to have the pack stay at the loft tonight so that Stiles could be with his dad. He knew that the Sheriff usually drank this entire day away. Stiles had to be there in case the Sheriff got too drunk.  
It still worried the alpha that Stiles was alone with a drunk, grieving man who could shoot a gun at the boy. What if the Sheriff did something? 

 

~ 

 

The Sheriff was sitting in the big recliner with an empty bottle of whiskey in his fist. He was groaning and grumbling from the living room while Stiles was shaking in the kitchen.  
The boy could feel a panic attack coming along as he got out another bottle of whiskeyfor his father. Stiles knew that this wasn't healthy for either of them. The drinking and grief-filled mumbling, the constant irritability and temper the Sheriff would take out on Stiles.  
Stiles took the bottle out to his father in the recliner. His dad was chuckling. Stiles hated the chuckling. This kind meant that his dad was giving up. Giving up on being nice.  
The Sheriff took a big drink of the whiskey  
"Y'know kid..." The man said. "You never told me what her last words were."  
Stiles shook his head nervously. "N-No... I-I did." He stammered. "Y-You were too drunk to remember. I've told you 7 times."  
The Sheriff grunted a response when he got up from the recliner. Stiles' instincts were telling him to fly away but he didn't want to leave his father alone.  
The Sheriff picked up the empty bottle of whiskey and stepped closer to Stiles. Stiles tried to scurry away but the Sheriff grabbed and pulled him by the hair on his neck.  
"D-Dad please..." He whimpered hopelessly while his father unhooked own belt buckle. "N-No... Anything but that..."  
The Sheriff had his belt off and he through Stiles onto the ground, holding the boy in place with his foot. Stiles heard the belt crack against his back. He screamed out in agony. After the first couple swings, his shirt was torn and in shreds.  
Stiles could feel the blood pooling in the gashes of his back. He fought back the tears as he squeezed his eyes shut.  
The Sheriff paused, leaning down and Stiles could smell the man's breath. It reaked of whiskey.  
"I'm gonna make you beg for death." The man whispered evily. 

~

Erica was chewing on her fingernail when it happened. At that point, Derek knew the young beta was feeling it too. Stiles was in pain. The rest of the pack looked up when they felt their alpha tense. Pack mentality at its finest.  
Lydia was the first to speak up.  
"I can feel it." She said, barely above a whisper. "He's giving up."  
Scott and Isaac growled at that. They were so tense that even a human who was blind and deaf could feel it in the air. The two betas started towards the door but Derek's own growling stopped them.  
"I'm the only one who's going." The alpha said.  
The pack stared in disbelief.  
"But Dere-" Erica was cut off by a flash of red from the alpha.  
"If I need help, I'll howl. Deal?" The pack exchanged reluctant nods.  
"Come back alive." Lydia said, starting to cry and Derek went out the door. 

~ 

It was the biggest blow to his back when Stiles could feel himself starting to fade away. His dad was slowing down which meant he was getting tired. That meant it was almost over. But there was one more thing.  
The Sheriff stopped, panting drunkily. He stumbled to the kitchen and returned a minute later with a small item in his hands.  
"N-No Dad..." He choked out when he turned his head to look at his father. His dad grunted as he ripped the cap of its container. 

Table Salt. 

The Sheriff was about to empty the contents of the glass shaker when a clawed hand clamped over the man's wrist.  
Stiles was too tired and afraid and hurt to look up so he just tried his hardest to stay awake. The movements around the room kept him from falling into darkness. 

~ 

The second he smelt the blood of his Stiles, Derek took off at an unnatural speed. He was fully shifted into his alpha shape as he charged into the house. He saw it. His Stiles lay in a pile on the floor. And an drunken Sheriff Stilinski standing over him.  
Derek had to keep himself and his wolf from agreeing to slit the man's throat. He charged at the man and clamped his clawed hand over his wrist.  
Just as he did this, the Sheriff collapsed into the chair from a head rush. Derek had a mental relief before he looked at Stiles.  
The younger boy's heartbeat was faint but alive. Derek rushed to him and took his hand.  
"Stiles, I'm have to take your pain. You'll die if I don't."  
Stiles sucked in a shaky breath as Derek started to take his pain. It took everything Derek had not to cry out. He couldn't let his Stiles die.  
"D-De...rek..." Stiles choked out. "Don't talk yet Stiles." Derek snapped.  
Stiles looked up with tears of pain and suffering in his eyes.  
"I-I should've fly away..." The boy said, voice shaky. "Should've fly to her instead of stay with him. She's better company."  
Derek sucked in another breath. He couldn't stand to see his Stiles like this. He wanted to rip that man's throat out for doing this. Stiles must have known what he was thinking because he looked up with pleading eyes.  
"Derek please..." The boy begged. "If he dies then I will lose my wings. I can't be without either of them. My dad or my wings."  
Derek hadn't even realized that Stiles' wings were not what they should be. They were nothing more than nubs of bone and skin with tiny feathers sticking from them.  
"And he does this every year. He doesn't usually go this far though. It has been 10 years." Stiles was crying now. "10 years I've been taking care of him. Letting him do these things to me."  
Derek shook his head, refusing to let this happen anymore. He scooped Stiles up in his arms and ran him out of the house.  
"N-No... Not the hospital... They'll take me away from my dad. And I can't be without him." Stiles whimpered into Derek's chest.  
That blew Derek over the top.  
"How can you say that? He's beating you senseless. He can't do this to you. You need medical attention." The alpha's eyes glowed red. "Stiles, you need a hospital."  
Stiles shook his head.  
"Take me to the Loft. I want to see the pack."  
Derek growled a response as he started to sprint to the Loft with an injured Stiles in his arms. The alpha hoped Stiles didn't see the tears sprinkling from his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack mentality at its finest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh My Gosh! You guys are amazing. I thought people didn't like Wing fics. But I see so many of you guys liking this. Thanks for all the kudos. And there was finally a comment that gave me feedback. I need feedback for my writing. It's a necessity.

"Stiles!"   
"What the hell happened?"  
"He looks like the cat dragged him in." 

The pack's reactions hit Stiles' ears and his heart sank. He didn't want them to worry about him. When he opened his eyes, he was lying on his stomach on the table in the loft. He could feel six hands touch his body somewhere. They were taking his pain. All of them. Even Jackson.   
Stiles pushed with his hands up off the table and sat with his legs dangling down. The pack hadn't taken their hands off.   
"I know I look like death in a bag." Stiles admitted. He could tell Allison, Lydia and Erica were fighting tears. He put his hand over Erica's. Her hand was sitting on his neck.   
"Where are your wings Stiles?" Isaac asked.   
"They went away." Stiles said. "My mom didn't want me flying today. She takes them every year then gives them back the next day."   
The pack just stared and stared. All except one.   
Derek was leaning against the stone pillar away from the table, eyes glowing red and seething with anger.   
Stiles got off the table, wincing and his legs nearly gave way. Erica rushed to his side but he held his hand up to show he was fine. He made his way to Derek.   
"Stiles I..." Derek said, his voice gruff when he spoke.   
When Stiles got closer, Derek moved his hands behind his back. They were face to face as Stiles took the alpha by the wrists and pulled them out from behind. He gasped at what he saw.   
"Derek..." Stiles said, sounding hurt.   
Derek's claws were digging into the flesh of his own palms. Blood was dripping down to his fingertips.   
After staring at Derek's hands, Stiles looked at Derek's face. The alpha's eyes were squeezed shut.   
"Derek Nathaniel Alexander Hale! Look at me right now!"  
The sudden rise in Stiles' voice even surprised himself.   
Derek opened his eyes slowly, the red fading from his eyes when he saw Stiles.   
"How did you know my full name?" The alpha asked dumbfounded.   
Stiles rolled his eyes.   
"Of all the questions you could have asked you ask that?" He complained. "If you must know, may or may not have read your police record. I also know that Cora had the most obnoxious real name ever."   
Derek chuckled at that and Stiles was at it again.   
"Mr. Big Brooding Alpha is laughing at my petty attempts to make this less like a funeral parlor instead of a den of teenage werewolves."   
That earned some giggles from the pack. Stiles hummed in satisfaction.   
He took Derek's wrists in his hands, watching the blood pool in the torn areas of flesh.   
"Pain kee-"   
"Don't give me that crap." Stiles cut him off. "You know what keeps you human? An anchor."   
Not letting go of Derek, Stiles turned to the pack.   
"What are your anchors?" He asked them.   
"I use my brother, Samuel." Erica said immediately. "He says that cancer is his superpower. I wish I could have believed that about my seizures."   
"Easy, Allison." Scott said.   
"I use my late brother Camden." Isaac said quietly. "We were so close when we were younger. I remember how he used to make old shirts into scarves for me. Since our mom was in the hospital for that time. Sometimes I like to wear thirty of them at once. Just taking in the memory."   
Stiles smiled at that.   
"Aiyesha." Boyd said simply.   
"Don't have one." Jackson grumbled.   
"That's because you're a jerkface." Stiles said before turning back to Derek.   
"Last but not least, our one and only Sourwolf. Your anchor?" Stiles looked at him.   
"Mine was anger." Derek mumbled. "But it won't hold. Not anymore."   
Stiles cocked an eyebrow.   
"Maybe it's because you have feelings now. Now that you actually have....nice things, you need a new anchor too." He felt weird talking about this with the pack around.   
After what felt like an eternity, Derek finally looked at Stiles.   
"Why won't you leave your dad, Stiles?" He asked.   
"He needs me. And I need him. He's the only family I have and I'm alone without him." Stiles took a shaky breath. He knew the pack could sense his uneasiness. Damn pack mentality.   
"Stiles, he does this to you of his own free will. It's not the alcohol. Not the stress. Not the grief." Derek said firmly. "He can't do this to you. You have to get out of that house."   
Stiles shook his head, backing away as he felt panic falling over him. And Derek and the pack must have sensed it because when his legs gave way, Scott, Isaac and Derek were there to catch him. When the wolves touched him, he flinched from the pain. He could feel his wounds opening up again. The pain was incredibly excruciating.   
Stiles jerked away from them and scurried to the wall under the window. His anxiety was taking over as he buried himself, trying to hide. His breathing and heartbeat were unhealthily fast as he fell into his panic attack.   
He heard the door to the loft close. Derek must have sent the pack away for a little while.   
Stiles felt a hand on his shoulder. All he thought of was his dad's angered and drunken hand crashing down on him. He pulled away from the unknown hand, squeezing his eyes shut very tightly.   
"Stiles..." Stiles heard a voice. It was deep and gruff.   
'Definitely Sourwolf.' He thought.   
"Stiles, look at me."   
Stiles cracked his eyes open to see Derek at his side, hands close to him.   
The injured boy fell into Derek's arms and began to cry. The sound of his sobs filled the quiet loft.   
After a while, Stiles' crying turned to little sniffles against Derek's shirt. He felt bad for dragging the alpha and the pack down with him.   
"I'm sorry..." Stiles whispered. "I should have told you about this. "   
Derek didn't say anything.   
"But you have to promise me you won't kill my dad. He's the only family I have. And if I have to feel like this every year, so be it. I just can't lose him...." Stiles yawned like a kitten.   
Derek nodded reluctantly.   
"Promise..." He said, taking some more of Stiles' pain as the boy fell asleep in his arms.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it snoring or purring? Derek could never tell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. I don't know how long this fic is going to be. I just write and write. I don't have really a system. But thank you guys so much for your support. You guys rock.

Apparently, Stiles Stilinski snores. It wasn't like Peter, who sounded more like he was using a chainsaw rather than sleeping. Stiles's snoring was more like purring. Like when he slept, he was a little kitten trapped in a teenage boy's body. Derek found it very amusing when he had laid Stiles down in his bed in the loft.   
The alpha scribbled a note for Stiles as before he left.   
'Stiles, try not to move. I'll change your bandages when I get back. If you needd anything, Isaac is there. See you soon. - D.'   
After Derek was satisfied, he grabbed his jacket and left. 

~

"Good morning, Sheriff Stilinski." Derek said, standing over the man that he'd left the night before. The man grumbled, obviously hungover as he sat up, rubbing his eyes.   
"H-Hale?" The Sheriff got up from his chair and nearly fell over, holding his forehead. "What the hell?"   
Derek put his hands on the Sheriff's shoulders as he guided him to the kitchen where two mugs of coffee were sitting on the counter.   
The Sheriff sat down at the kitchen table and Derek came over with the two mugs. The older man had a puzzled smile on his face as he took the coffee from Derek.   
"Y'know..." The Sheriff mused. "Claudia was friends with your mother, Hale. She and Talia were a tag team for Beacon Hills. Claudia would be the one who planned everything and Talia would make it so. I remember Natalie Martin would try to follow their lead but she could never get on their level."   
Derek stared into his coffee.   
"Stiles was too young to remember this, but you and Laura used to babysit Stiles with Cora. Sometimes, Claudia or I would come home to find Cora awake at the kitchen table late at night. She was only 5 and she'd usually be coloring no matter what the hour. Then I would look in the living room and see Laura asleep in the recliner and Stiles fast asleep in your arms." The Sheriff chuckled at the memory. "You were awake. Watching over him. As if you were protecting him. But you didn't even look at me or Claudia when we came in. You just kept your eyes on Stiles. We eventually came over to you two and tried to get you to bed but Stiles wouldn't let go of you. It's like you two had some sort of bond."   
Derek looked up at that.   
"Had?" He asked, almost to himself.  
The Sheriff looked at Derek, eyebrows pinched together. He studied him.   
"You once told me that you were in love with my son. Is that still true?"   
Derek didn't flinch at the question.   
"It hasn't changed." He said firmly. "I just hate to see him hurt..."   
The Sheriff looked away.   
"You cannot believe that I wanted to do this. I'm a grieving m-"  
"Is that any excuse?!" Derek snapped, cutting him off. "He's supposed to be your son! You think your grief justifies beating the crap out of him once a year?! Giving him nightmares and panic attacks?! You think this is okay?!"   
The Sheriff was speechless.   
"I don't even remember my dad!" Derek said, his voice rising. "He was murdered when I was 7...." He stopped to breathe. "...You're the only family he has. He says that he needs you. But I'm not letting you anywhere near him. You hear?! You won't come close to him until he's healed. I'll take this to the police if I have to. And trust me, you being Sheriff won't help you in this particular case."  
Derek stood up from the table. But before he left the room, he said one thing.   
"You don't love him enough to stay sober. And you don't love your wife enough to keep her son alive." 

Then he left. 

~

Derek came into the Loft to find Stiles still sleeping. But it wasn't the same peaceful sleep as before. His eyebrows were pinched together and there were little beads of sweat on his temple. His thin body was shaking and his breathing was unhealthily fast.   
Derek approached the bed, his footsteps nearly silent. When he put his hand on Stiles' shoulder, the boy flailed and moved away in his sleep.   
"Stop..." Stiles said, voice near sobbing. "Dad please..."   
Derek held his breath and tried again.   
"No! Get away!" Stiles moved further away from Derek, his voice high and desperate.   
"Stiles..." Derek was pained inside.   
Then all in one motion, he pulled Stiles into his arms, holding the shivering boy close.   
Stiles' face was less pinched and more calm. All his shivering and shaking seemed to go away when Derek wrapped arms around him.   
"D-Derek..." Stiles whimpered, clinging to Derek.   
"You were right.... I can't stay with him anymore. I...he just..."   
Derek shushed him and laid him on his stomach.   
"Try not to think right now. I'm going to change your bandages."   
Stiles rested his chin on his crossed arms in front of him.   
As Derek unwrapped the blood stained bandage, he gasped at what he saw.   
"Stiles..." He took a shaky breath. 

"Your feathers...."

"They've turned black."


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He couldn't believe it.

When Stiles heard Derek's words, he shuddered. He was truly a freak now. He didn't want to look yet. A few tears fell from his eyes. It was hopeless now. Maybe his mom didn't let him keep them pretty and brown because he was becoming less strong. That had to be it. He was weak.   
Stiles tried to curl up in his own body but neither his wounds nor his alpha would let him give up. He could feel his gashes opening up again. Then the memories started flowing back to him. The whiskey. The dusty wood floor. The loud cracking of the belt against his back. He could almost hear his dad's laughing at him. Calling him horrible things. "Worthless." "Good For Nothing." "Weakling." "Your Mother Would Be So Disappointed In You."   
That memory got to him. Stiles whimpered softly. His breathing started to pick up. He was falling into a panic attack.   
Then a pair of strong but gentle arms pulled him into a warm hug. Stiles had almost forgotten that the alpha was there. He was too busy wallowing.   
"Stiles..." Derek said, holding Stiles close. "Listen to me. You are perfect. You're not a freak. It's a beautiful change. The little sparrow became the mysterious raven. You just happen to be a very sarcastic raven. They're beautiful."   
Stiles nodded slowly, feeling better with Derek there.   
"Tell me a story, Sourwolf. Anything. I just want to listen to you."   
Derek thought for a moment then began.   
"When I was 12, my dad used to make the best cinnamon bread in the history of the world. Since my mother couldn't cook to save her life, Dad would switch with him. Mom would discipline and work hard for us and Dad would cook and braid my sisters' hair. Anyway, back to cinnamon bread. One day, after my dad was killed, my mom tried to bake some for us and it was burnt to a crisp."   
Stiles shrugged. "What happened next?"   
Derek smiled softly.   
"We fed it to the birds in the preserve around our house. Mom hated them because they would eat the spare seeds from her garden. But me, Laura, Cora and Jonathan all ran out with the cinnamon bread and fed it to them."   
Stiles looked down while Derek continued.   
"Most of them were ravens. They had beautiful wings that were layered with black feathers. And they're eyes.... They were the color of whiskey shots and shined brighter than any alpha's red ones."   
Stiles knew where this was going. He could deny it all he wanted, but Derek was right. Even ravens could be beautiful.   
"Thank you, Sourwolf." Stiles whispered. "Will you stay? I need you here."   
Derek nodded. "Of course Stiles..." 

~

"Wake up sleepy-lovers!" A female voice rang through their ears as Stiles and Derek laid in the bed.   
"Catwoooman..." Stiles whined. "You are so annoying..."  
Stiles heard her giggle.   
"Batmaaaaan...." Erica mocked, mimicing Stiles' whine then giggling some more. "You two are getting out of this bed. Batman, you are almost healed. That means you can get up and actually do more with your time. And Der, you need to spend real time with Stiles. Not just spending the night in his bed or healing his wounds or kissing his booboos."   
Derek sat up, rolling his eyes and Stiles thought he saw it. No. That can't be it.   
"Derek Hale!" Stiles exclaimed. "Big Bad Sourwolf is blushing! Someone call the papers! This is huge!"   
Derek swatted Stiles' head lightly. Stiles grinned. He was so happy to have Derek with him.   
He placed a soft kiss to Derek's lips, holding the alpha's face in his hands.   
Erica coughed and faked a gag.   
"Ugghh I'm gonna hurl. Be ready to leave in 10 minutes." She said, leaving the room.   
The kiss became more heated as Derek put his hands on Stiles' chest and neck. Then Stiles started to explore Derek's torso with his long fingers. It was so perfect to have Derek for this.   
26 minutes of heated kissing later, Stiles' phone buzzed from his pants at the foot of the bed.   
He checked it and his face fell.   
"It's Tara. The deputy from the station." He said quietly. "They found my dad. He wants to see me."   
Derek took Stiles' hand but Stiles pulled away.   
"I want to do this on my own." He said firmly, but a shred of fear behind his voice. "That means no werewolf hearing from the parking lot, no sending Isaac or Erica or anyone to wait up on me. Just let me handle this."   
It took a minute but Derek nodded and Stiles got ready and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is special because some of what Derek talks about has been in my own life. My dad used to make Banana Nut Bread that was to die for and he used to braid me and my sister and brother's hair. (The three of us had the longest hair before we all chopped it off.) Then when my mom wanted to make it it would be burnt to a crisp.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don't go to the club on a stomach full of butterflies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Sorry I've taken so long to update. I have been busy with school and junk. Thanks for waiting

Stiles took one last look at Derek before taking off the roof of the Loft. As he flew, he noticed his new wings were heavier, but stronger too. It felt nicer, like nothing could touch him.  
Then, in one moment a sharp pain hit his shoulder. Stiles winced and cried out, falling to the earth unable to catch himself.  
He landed in the alley near the Jungle. A couple drunk clubbers were groping around the corner. They paid no attention to the winged teenager falling from the sky.  
Stiles groaned when he pulled himself up, feeling the crunch of possible broken bones. He looked to examine his shoulder. There was a tiny arrow about the size of a paper clip wedged in the skin. It was in a pressure point where his wings connected with his back. It could have parylized his wings had he not been flying. He knew he'd heal.  
He made his way out of the alley, seeing all the people filing out of the Jungle. A thought lingered in his mind about the males seeing his wings but he shook at away. It was Beacon Hills. If they needed to know, the Supernaturals would have found them by now. And all the guys were probably too drunk to care about it. They just wanted to go hook up with their significant other they either came there with or picked up on the dance floor. A few of the lonely drunks tried to hit on Stiles but he shooed them away with 'My boyfriend could rip your throat out with his teeth.' and left.  
One man however was very persistant. He was old and disgustingly drunk and his breath reeked of mucus as he whispered in Stiles' ear some words of seduction. Then Stiles felt the prick of a needle in his neck and his vision started to go hazy. He fell back into the man's arms.  
"That's it, babe..." The man said in a gruff, raspy voice. "Let's take a ride."  
Stiles opened his mouth to object but all that came out was a pitiful whimper.  
"Y-You won't get away with th-this..." Stiles squeaked.  
The man laughed as Stiles was pushed against the cold tile wall.  
"You're gonna be my bitch tonight..." The man sneered, holding a dull knife to Stiles' neck. He would have to agree. But this man was disgusting. Then Stiles saw the flash of Alpha red eyes. Just perfect.  
The man angrily shoved his hand in Stiles boxers and palmed him roughly. Stiles was ready to cry. This wasn't the way he wanted to lose his virginity. Let alone have it stolen from scum like this.  
He tried to scream but the man had shoved a spare rag in his mouth. The man tore off Stiles' shirt and yanked down his jeans. His sharp nails scratched across Stiles' torso, leaving little red ruts in his skin. Stiles whimpered and thought of Derek. Would he still love him like this? He knew that wolves were possessive about their pack members.  
"My alpha..." Stiles said after he spit the rag out. "He'll rip your throat out. With. His. Teeth."  
The man just snarled a laugh.  
"That Hale brat doesn't deserve such a beautiful creature like you in his pack. You are one of a kind, my friend." The alpha leaned into Stiles' face. "And I'm going to make you mine." He sneered.  
Stiles finally just nodded and let the man do what he wanted. One of the man's filthy hands was down Stiles' boxers and the other held the dull blade to his neck.  
Stiles whimpered at the man's touch. He might as well just let the man slit his throat. Then Derek wouldn't have to smell this scum on him.  
The man stopped, licking his lips as he bent down between Stiles' legs.  
"P-Please..." The teen pleaded with the man pathetically.  
Just when the man was about to take him, Stiles did something.  
An ear splitting screech came from his throat, making the man fall backward from his position.  
Stiles didn't hear anything but the high pitched sound that may have been coming from him.  
The man scrambled to his feet and ran off.  
The teen stood in the dark, teeth clenched, ears ringing, eyes squeezed shut and breathing uneven and shallow. 

He stood alone on the verge of tears.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The search is on

Wings AU part 13

Derek was sitting in his Camaro, hands clutching the wheel with clawed fingers and white knuckles. He was wrecked, thinking about what could happen to Stiles.   
Then a sound broke his painful silence. A high pitched screech. It reminded him of one of Lydia's screams. But this was no banshee.   
Then a loud knock broke him from his thoughts. Derek looked up and saw Lydia and Scott were standing there, looking like they'd seen a ghost.   
"You feel something." Derek said when he got out of the car.   
Lydia nodded nervously.   
"It's Stiles. He's in trouble." She was on the verge of tears.   
"You heard it, right?" Scott asked Derek. "That sound?"   
Derek nodded.   
"Get the pack, find him." He ordered.   
Scott and Lydia looked at each other and left. Meaning, Scott ran off towards town and Lydia got in her car. 

~ 

Stiles....Stiles....Stiles!   
His Stiles....His only thing that Derek had left. Stiles was his only reason for staying here. If Derek ever had to leave Beacon Hills, he would take Stiles with him.   
The alpha was following the scent that he knew so well. That smell of nutmeg that hid under the boy's skin. The aroma of sweat and over priced deodorant that Derek couldn't get enough of. He needed his Stiles. Safe. 

~

The scent led Derek to the Jungle. There was a foul scent of drunk clubber and cigarettes in the air. The alpha held his breath and he used his ears to find his Stiles instead.   
There was a tiny whimpering sound coming from an alley near the club. Derek went over to investigate and couldn't believe what he saw.   
Stiles.   
On the ground.   
Curled in on himself.   
Crying. 

Derek looked over at the other person in the alley. Then Derek's eyes went red.   
"Kaliss." Derek said through his teeth. "This is Hale Territory. Just because Deucalion rejected you from his Hydra Pack doesn't mean you can stay here after you track him. Now leave. I am currently practicing being kinder so I'm giving you until noon tomorrow to-"   
"Go snort some Mountain Ash, Hale." The alpha on the ground sneered. "Be wise. That beautiful creature right there, is something special. His gifts are extraordinary."   
Derek stayed quiet.   
"That boy....that screech. It is the screech of the Fatiscat. The Splitting." Kaliss turned his head to face Derek. There was black blood running down his neck from his ears.   
"That boy....is the Fatiscat. Keep that boy alive Hale. Make sure he doesn't fly away from you."   
Then Kaliss starting laughing like a insane maniac on too much medication. 

If only that Raven  
If only that Raven   
If only that Raven

The dying alpha mindlessly chanted that over and over again to Derek's annoyance.   
Derek lifted Stiles from the ball of pain and took off towards the Loft.   
"D-Derek..." Stiles' voice sounded tiny and broken. "D-Don't listen to me..." The teen whispered.   
"Shhhh...." Derek said, slowing down when they got closer to the Loft. 

"You'll be fine..."

Only Derek wasn't so sure.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fic. I love feedback. Thanks for reading :) the next chapter will be out soon.


End file.
